


Foeda Tempestas

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Drama, Episode: s04e21 Life on Mars, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 02:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6685915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was the most unbelievable...never did she imagine having to make this phone call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foeda Tempestas

**Author's Note:**

> I took this scenario from the scene in the episode when the Vice President says he knows what is about to happen because he already talked to CJ. The title is Latin for Bad Weather.

CJ sat in her den and looked at the throwaway cell phone. She had a very busy day, and it would only be more insane as the night dragged on. She should not even be home right now; there was so much to do at the White House. She told Carol she needed a half hour, forty-five minutes tops…there was something to be done that CJ could not ignore. She could not shake the feeling that this was all her fault. Her payback for what happened almost a decade ago and still haunted her to this day. But how was she to know when she sent Joe Quincy, the new associate White House counsel on his little wild goose chase as a prank that this would be the outcome. That a man would fall from grace, and quite possibly take some people down with him.

Her hands shook as she dialed the number, a number she tried to forget but probably never would. He had slipped it in her hand after that night, as if she would ever want to see him again. Still, she never forgot it…it was part of her curse. A chorus of beers, laughs, and campaign stops muddled the good times. Whenever she closed her eyes, the bad times were laid out before her. Smells, sounds, screams; the nights she would wake shaking and crying and never telling Leo why. It was ringing now; she wanted to hang up. He would call back; she knew his curiosity would get the better of him.

“Hello?” it was a question.

“John, hello.”

“Claudia? Where are you calling me from? Are you alright?”

“It’s a throwaway cell phone. I need to talk to you.”

“OK, I'm listening.”

“There is getting ready to be a lot of trouble John.”

“What kind of trouble. Look Claudia, you have never had a problem telling me what you think and feel in the past so just get to it. I am a very busy man.”

“You son of a bitch.” CJ said before she could stop herself. “I am doing this a courtesy…stop thinking of yourself for one minute and listen to me.”

“I am listening to you, and I am not meaning to act like a son of a bitch. What is going on? Can I perfectly honest and say you're frightening me.”

She was frightening him. Yeah right, he could really lay it on thick. Of course, it had been years since she called his private cell phone number. The last time had been in Miami after Leo proposed. She had to tell him that maybe it was time to tell her fiancée what happened between the two of them. John had been the one to tell her not to…Leo McGarry had certainly done things in his life that she would never be privy to. Whether she regretted what happened between her and him when he was the Senator from Texas, she did not need to rehash it for further scrutiny by someone who was not there and did not know all the circumstances and sides. She knew at the time he was bullshitting her and covering his own ass but she decided he was right. Leo did not need to know every aspect of her life; she would never be able to shake the memories if every time she looked into the eyes of the man she loved, she knew he knew her darkest secret. Well, one of her darkest secrets.

“Helen Baldwin just signed a seven-figure book deal.” She said.

There was silence on the line and then static. For a moment, CJ was not sure if the Vice-President was still there.

“John? Mr. Vice-President? Can you hear me?”

“What?” he asked.

“Helen Baldwin has just signed a seven-figure book deal. And we don’t have to pretend right now that you have no idea who Helen Baldwin is.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Apparently she is friends with Stu Winkle, the new gossip columnist at the Post. We don't need, right now, to get into what you may or may not have said, but he knows things he should not. We believe that he got this information from Helen. We also…”

“Who are we Claudia? How did this happen?”

“Joe Quincy.”

“The new White House Associate Counsel?” John asked.

“Yeah. Um, I got a question from the science desk about life on Mars. I gave it to Joe after I got the ‘we’re not discussing it’ from Leo. We felt maybe there was a breach and someone on the inside was leaking confidential information to the press. Apparently, this young man spent his day putting 4 and 4 together and actually got 8.”

“Where does Helen come into this?”

“Charlie read in Stu Winkle’s column that she just signed a seven-figure book deal. It was brought to me, and I started my own little investigation. Phone records John…don’t you know the White House keeps phone records?”

More silence on the line. CJ wished she had a vodka martini and a cigarette for this conversation. She instead had to rub her stomach; she was almost six months pregnant with her second child. This was the most unbelievable…never did she imagine having to make this phone call.

“She’s writing a tell-all book.” He said.

“It looks that way. And she may not name you as her source but someone is going to put two and two together like Joe did.”

“I thought you said four and four.”

“This is seriously not the time to joke sir.”

“I told you not to call me that when we’re alone, it is unnerving.”

“Why? Because we were lovers once?”

“It’s a time you seem to…OK; we can't have this conversation right now. What’s next? Who knows?”

“Honestly, everyone. The entire Senior Staff, Leo and the President. I hate to say this because I don’t want it ever to be attributed to me, but if that book wasn’t coming out, I am sure we, or the appropriate people, could spin this. We can't spin this book. John, there could be charges.”

“I made sure never to tell her anything that could bring charges.” He replied.

“That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard!” CJ exclaimed. “You share confidential pillow talk with this woman and you would have me believe that you made sure you didn’t tell her anything that could bring charges. You told her there was life on Mars!”

“She was more than some woman CJ.”

He was calling her CJ; John Hoynes was in full business mode.

“Will you have me believe that you loved her?”

“Do I hear jealousy in your voice?” John asked.

CJ laughed, but it was mirthless.

“Your ass is getting ready to be on a spit. Now is not the time to measure your dick Mr. Vice-President.”

“What do I do?” John asked.

“You talk to Leo and the President. You talk to Suzanne, John. This woman is going to write a book. She will the do the tour; she will do the circuit. Leno, Letterman, Barbara Walters, Oprah. She will paint herself as the mistress and victim of the Vice-President’s uncontrollable libido. She will paint herself as your confidante. She will paint herself as blameless, telling these secrets because she could not hold them in anymore. Cleansing herself and her conscious while you hang out to dry.”

“Helen wouldn’t do this CJ.”

“Read the papers John!” she exclaimed. “She is going to destroy you, or do a damn good job trying. We will be coming to you this evening and you have a lot of decisions to make.”

“I can't tell Suzanne about this. She won't take another indiscretion.”

“I can't be your marriage counselor.” CJ replied with a self-deprecating laugh. “Not me, and you know it.”

“Your marriage has seen its share of ups and downs and you two are still considered newlyweds. Have you ever had second thoughts?”

“Not once. This is not about me; don’t make it about me. Protect yourself because the bad weather is coming again.”

“Maybe I’ll make it through. You survived Bruno Gianelli.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” CJ said.

“I hear things.”

“You of all people should not be listening to rumors. I am a married woman and I take my vows seriously, and I was pregnant when that bastard…when Bruno swept into town. Why do you do this?”

“How am I supposed to react to the possibility of losing everything?” John asked. “Should I throw a parade?”

“This is your fault. I…I can't stress enough how horrible this is going to be for you and your family. Nevertheless, it is your fault John. Now you have to stand up and say it.”

“Helen couldn’t do this to me.” He repeated.

“She has. It is done. Tonight it begins. I thought I should let you know.”

“Who told you to call me?”

“No one. I called on my own. I didn’t want to come to you tonight with a mob mentality and tell you that the life you know is over. I felt that you that anyone in this position, deserves to have it broken to them gently.”

“I can't tell you how much I appreciate that. I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“Everything. I don’t even know…” his voice cracked. “Have you ever been hurt by someone you loved and thought loved you?”

“God yes.” Another small laugh. “I want to put my arms around you John, as a friend. Because this is going to be the worst time of your life, and your family’s life, and suddenly your friends are going to disappear. You will be alone, in the cold, wondering.”

“Thanks Claudia Jean, I think I’m going to go put one of my guns in my mouth now.”

“John…”

“I'm kidding. I don’t think I deserve your compassion, but I’ll take it. Leo should know that he is a very, very lucky man. We had better end this now. I should call some people.”

“Do not, under any circumstances, use White House phones today. Those records are going to come out and we don’t…you don’t…need it to look like you were gathering people for the storm.”

“When should I expect Senior Staff?” he asked.

“Later in the evening. I'm sorry John.”

“Its alright. Goodbye Claudia.”

“Goodbye.”

CJ hung up the phone. She looked at it for a few moments before dialing one more number.

“Yeah?”

“Its done.”

“What’s going to happen now?”

“We will see him this evening and then he meets with the President.”

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I did, and it is done.”

She hung up the phone, took a deep breath, and smashed it on the floor. Then she stepped on it with her pump for good measure. Picking up the fractured pieces and deposited them in the trash, she could not help but look at the cell phone as an analogy for the life of John Hoynes. How much more bad weather could this Administration suffer before the roof caved in?

***


End file.
